My SoCalled Perfect Life
by charmedgal005
Summary: Sydney's daughter tries to cope with the truth, when her entire life is based upon a lie.
1. Prologue

**My So-Called Perfect Life**

**charmedgal005**

**Disclaimer**

_If I owned these characters (aside from the ones you don't recognize like Lacy, Brook, Hadley, Jon, Charlie, __Milo__, Rich etc...) I probably wouldn't be writing these.  If I owned these characters, you would probably see this story on the show.  Hey!  You know what?  I am writing these and you don't see this story line on the show, therefore, I DO NOT OWN THESE CHARACTERS!!!  So don't sue me!_

**Notes:**

Parts of "Phase One" never happened.  Basically, no evil Francie, or no Alliance take down.  But the kiss between Francie and Will, yeah that happened.  

This is in Lacy's POV.  You'll find out who Lacy is in the story.  If I tell you now, it will give just too much away.  

Please, review this.  I live for reviews.  They are my life.  

**~**~**~**~**Prologue**~**~**~**~**

I cannot believe I am watching my mother get married.  It is kind of weird.  But I must say, she looks happy.  So, I guess, I'm happy too. It took her longer than me to find herself.  I only just found myself.  She, well, I don't think Kate Ondrea will ever find herself.  Maybe she's looking for Sydney Bristow to come back from the dead.  She's marring an old flame, so I guess in many ways, the dead has been raised.

            I think back to my junior year in high school.  I was seventeen, and lost.  Things were different back then.  I was different back then.  I didn't know who I was.  

            As a college sophomore, my life is filled with class, homework, friends, my boyfriend Jon, and overall happiness.  But it wasn't always so. Two years ago, ok, honestly, it was more than two years.  Closer to two and a half years ago, life was painful.  And to think I used to think it was all perfect.


	2. My SoCalled Perfect Life

**~**~**~**~** My So-Called Perfect Life**~**~**~**~**

Let me start off by saying my life is perfect.  I have the happily married parents (actually, getting married), the two younger siblings (sisters), the cat, the two car garage, a nice large house in the suburbs in averageville, USA.  Like I said, I have the perfect life.  Actually, let me rephrase that.  I had the perfect life.  Because everything I once knew to be true was all a lie.  Figures, my life was too perfect to be true.  Even now, I still cant believe it was a lie.  A lie that I did not choose to be a part of.  My sisters are mad too.  Though not my youngest sister, Hadley as much as my self and the middle girl, Brook.

            I'm sorry that I moved to fast.  Let me start my story at the beginning.  I noticed a car that passed me every morning four weeks before my life unraveled.  I thought nothing of it at the time.  Our neighborhood is full of high schoolers, many of which are too lazy to walk the three blocks to school.  But it takes the same time to walk, as it does to get into the car, start it, on cold days or snowy days, warm it up, drive, found a spot in the crowded lot, and park than it does to walk, so many parents in my area make us walk.  Well, those lazy people get rides from their friends.  So that's who I thought it was, just someone's friend picking them up.  Never mind the fact that I never saw the car in the school lot, or drop anyone off at school.  I said I thought nothing of it.  I never knew that the car would stop at my house every morning.  

            The day before my life unraveled, things were normal, or as normal as they could be.  I was coming down with the flu, but went to school anyways.  There was a physics test.  I left that morning so medicated I could always remember my own name.  But I still went to school.  My only chance for a retake came if I was there for the test.  Mrs. Townsend was the meanest teacher in the school, and there were some mean ones, like my band teacher.  If we missed one of her tests, for any reason what so ever, she wouldn't let us take it, ever.  Despite the flu, I still trudged my way up the hill towards my school.  A car pulled up beside me, and my friend called through the open window.  "Lacy! Get in!" 

            Grateful for the ride, I climbed into the car.  I glanced up and saw the same black Honda that I had seen for four weeks pass ups. "They're late."  I observed.

            "Who's late?  We still have ten minutes before 0 hour is out." My friend, Milo pointed out.

            "I see that black car every day.  They are so punctual that I can tell when I am late.  But today, they're late."

            "You sure you're not early?" Milo asked.          

            Medicine head can sometimes- ok, often- make you space out.  "Huh?" I said, joining back into the conversation.

            "You're not early?"

            "No, if anything, late."  I leaned my head back and shut my eyes. There wasn't anything to say. For the two minutes it took to get to school (there is a really long light that we had to wait for) we let the radio conquer the silence.  I got out of the car, and stepped into the building.  Milo and I separated and went to our respectable lockers.

            The three minute bell rang, warning me that I better get my ass down to band. I grabbed my clarinet, and my physics book incase I had time to study and rushed down to the band room.  As I approached the room I thought it was curious that no one was warming up. There were not rat-a-tats from the snares, no bums from our less (much less) than good tuba player, no melodic tunes from the flutes, only the soft chatter of friends.  

            "Sub today; You don't need your clarinet." My good friend Charlie Early (short for Charlotte) reported as I stepped through the door frame.

            "Thank God!  I need the sleep."

            "I need to study for the physics test."

            "And I need to study for that too."  
            I slouched into a chair, as the sub went through and botched everyone's name.  "Lacy Audry?"  She called.  I cringed.  My name wasn't that hard, he had to have put extra effort to make it very wrong.

            "Ondrea."  I corrected.

            "Sorry." That had to be the fortieth time she had said that.  Seriously, she was worse than a telemarketer.  out of the fifty two of us in the band class, she pronounced on last name correctly, Smith.  But she pronounced the first name very wrong, so it didn't really count.  As Charlie sat beside me muttering off equations, I closed my eyes.

            "Lacy do you have your notes with you?"

            With my eyes still closed, I answered.  "No, just my book."

            "Fuck.  I can't find that equation for mu anywhere."

            "Mu is equal to the tangent of theta."  I automatically said.

            "You are really going to do well on this test."

            "Not really, that is all I know."

            As the bell rang, signaling the end of first period. My mind had been made up.  As soon as second was over, I was going home.  "Hey Charlie, you don't have a third period right?"

            "Yeah."

            "Could you give me a ride home?"

            "Not feeling well?"

            "No.  There are no tire tracks on my back, right?  Because it feels like I've been run over by a truck."

            "Sure."

            "I'll give you some lunch while you're there."

            "Hey, thanks."

            I didn't pass the test with flying colors.  I would have liked to have passed with colors.  But a passing grade was nice.  I got home and threw my bag and myself onto the couch. 

            "Lacy, do you want anything?" Charlie offered.

            "No, I should be asking you that."

            "But you're the sickling."

            "Fine.  You can make yourself anything you want for lunch.  We don't have much, but you're welcome to have whatever."

            "Thanks.  Can I get you anything?"

            "Yeah, the cordless phone by the TV.  That's where I left it last night."

            Charlie tossed me the phone, and left to get herself some lunch.  I dialed the familiar numbers of my mom's work.  It rang twice before I got her secretary.  "Kate Ondrea's office."

            "Hi Susan, is my  mom there?" No of course, she wasn't there.  Oddly, I could only catch my mother at her desk during her lunch. My mother was an executive at a technology manufacturer in town, and was constantly on the go.  

            "I'm sorry Brook-"

            "I'm Lacy."

            "Sorry Lacy.  Has anyone told you that you sound just like Brook?"

            "A few."

            "Well, your mother is at a lunch meeting.  Would you like to leave a message?  I'll give it to her the minute she gets back."

            "I'll call her on her cell."

            "Do you want to be safe and still leave a message?"

            It was a tempting offer.  IT was a good idea.  "Yeah, I better do that."

            "Ok, what's the message?"

            "Can you have her call me in sick for the rest of the day?"

            "Poor dear, not feeling well?"

            "I feel worse than, well, I can't think of anything worse than how I feel."

            While Susan was babbling about some of the remedies she knew, I didn't listen.  I looked out the window.  I watched as the little black Honda circled the block twice.  It was some people's lunch hour, and some go cruising through our neighborhood. Finally, I had had enough.  "Susan, I should probably call my mom now."

            "Oh yes. Well, I'll get her this message, and hope you feel better soon."

            "Thank you."

            "Bye."

            "Bye." I hit the end button and paused but a second before my fingers danced over the more familiar number of my mom's cell phone.

            "Kate Ondrea."

            "Mom."

            "Lacy, what's wrong sweetie?"

            "I came home."

            "Why?"

            "I'm sick."

            "Oh right."

            "Can you excuse my absence please?"

            "Yeah, and then I'm coming home."

            "You don't have to Mom."

            "I want to.  I'll be right home.  I just need to finish the meeting I'm in now, go to another really important meeting, and I will race home."

            The thing about my mother was that family was the most important thing in her life.  Followed closely by her work. She was always able to balance out the two, and she has yet to miss one of Brook's basketball games.  It was as if she was making up for the family she never had growing up.  But I thought that wasn't true.  My grandparents seemed to be the most loving people I knew.  If I had only known then.  

            "Ok."

            "I'll be home soon.  I love you."

            "Love you too."  The phone shut off, and the eerie drone of the phone rang as I laid the phone on my chest before I continued. Charlie returned taking a bite out of her sandwich. She plopped down on the couch at my feet.  There was nothing but sweet silence.  Charlie picked up a picture off the bookshelf right next to her.  It was taken that summer on a family trip to Europe, of just me and my sisters. "You and Brook look so alike.  I never realized how alike you guys are.  Hadley sticks out."

            "She looks more like our dad than we do."

            I guess I had never thought of it like that.  Brook and I look nothing like our dad.  We were blessed with light brown hair, and vivid green eyes.  We got our mother's high cheek bones, and athletic body.  My father, with his dark brown hair, with even darker brown eyes, is, to put it nicely, thick boned.  My mother, a light blonde with deep blue eyes.  The blonde and the brown hair balanced out to a lovely light brown (you can tell that I didn't do too well in biology) and the green eyes come from probably out of nowhere.  Brook and I got a different look, but we are our mother's daughters.  Hadley on the other hand has chocolate colored hair, with chocolate brown eyes, and my fathers', erm, bones. 

            We vegetated in front of the television until Charlie had to rush back to school.  Before my mother got home, I got my first odd phone call.  The same call would come two more times that afternoon.

            "Hello?" I weakly answered.

            "Joey's Pizza."  A raspy voice answered.  Ordinarily, with a response like that, I would have tried ordering a pizza.  Or I would have commented on how I was the one that was supposed to answer like that.  But I wasn't really feeling up to it.

            "Nope.  There's no such place here."

            I expected to hear some sort of protest from the man on the other end, but he only hung up. The same man called two more times looking for Joey's Pizza.  After the third time he didn't call again.

            My mother dashed out early the next morning calling to my dad to call someone to cancel something before she ran out the door.  From my lazy, warm, spot on the couch, I witness my father run out five minutes earlier calling something similar.  My guess who ever they were needing to cancel, wouldn't get the message until it was too late.  I was too out of it to mention it to anyone.  Within three minutes, I was left alone.  Hadley's bus was due soon, and Brook left late, so she was forced to bike to school to make it on time.  I bathed in the silence.  But it didn't last long.  Soon my peaceful life was severly disturbed.  My perfect life was disrupted by the simple sound of a door bell.  Grumbling, I pulled the blanket around me as I stumbled to the front door to answer it.

            The man on the other side looked surprised to see me.  Frankly, I was surprised to see him myself.  "Uh, is um, Kate or Rich there?" He asked.

            It took me a moment to process what he had said.  "Um no.  They had to go to work early today." I finally said.  He looked disappointed.

            "Ok then." He looked me squarely in the eye.  You had to work hard not to notice his green eyes when you looked into them.  A large gust came and blew his sandy hair around.  Without saying another word he turned and left.  Before shutting the door, I gasped.  I looked at what he drove.  A little Black Honda.  The Black Honda.  I had seen that same car every morning for four weeks.  He was the driver.  I had seen him every day.  Confusion pained my every breath. Why was he at our door?  Did he come everyday, or just on Wednesdays?  How did he know my parents?  Were they friends or something?  As I lay on the couch the rest of the day, I didn't realize that the truth was coming out, and I never even knew it.

            My mother called twice that day to check up on me.  My father, once.  But the subject of the green eyed, light brown haired man was never brought up.  After a nap that morning, he never crossed my mind. It wasn't until Hadley came home that I remember what Charlie had said yesterday.  Brook came home almost half an hour later.  And the pieces were piecing together. I didn't know it.  I of course wouldn't realize it until later.  That seemed to be the story of my life.  I tried to push him out of my head, but I just couldn't.  Wild theories about who he was ran through my mind. At first I thought that he was just part of my parent's carpool.  But I remembered that neither one of them was in a carpool.   Then, a friend.  But if he was a friend, why had I never met him? Why did he stop by the house so early?  Why did he come everyday?  Did he come everyday?  My theories got wilder and wilder, until I came up with: hew as a mercenary, there to kill my parents daily, and they survived.  Who would have guessed that that was even partially the truth? Every time he would stop by our house, he was slowly killing Kate and Rich Ondrea.

            "Mom?"  I asked when she came home.

            "What is it Lacy?"

            "After everyone left, a guy stopped by looking for you and Dad."

            My mother almost dropped the plates she was carrying.  "I told your father to tell him not to come."

            "I know, but he told you before he left to dot he same." 

            "Did he leaved before me?"

            "About ten minutes earlier."

            "What did you tell him?"

            "You left for work already."

            "Thank you."

            I could tell that he was a subject that she did not want to touch so I dropped it. That was probably the smartest thing I had done in the long run.

            Less than a week later I had begun to finally recover.  I could breathe out my nose again, and was up and moving.  On night, I was handed the plates to set the table with.  I walked over and set the five plates in the normal spots, but there was still one plate in my hand.  Surprised that my mother miscalculated the number of people eating, I put the extra plate back on the shelf.  Imagine my surprise when she blew up for not setting six plates.

            "I'm sorry, who is eating dinner with us?"

            "A friend of your dad and mine."

            "Oh, what is dinner?"

            "It's a surprise?"

            "Ok."  I pulled another setting out, and set the table as I was told.

            After setting the table, for six I might add, I ran upstairs to do my homework before dinner and the good TV shows came on. I got called to dinner, and was shocked to see the man sitting at our table.  The green eyes, light brown haired, black Honda driving man that had been knocking on our door only a week before.  I could not believe it.  I did get some comfort in knowing that he did know my parents, and my parents knew him. My mother quickly ushered us to the table where she then introduced us.  

            "Girls, this is Michael Vaughn." She said.  In turn, we each shook his hand as she individually introduced us.  Starting with Hadley.  "Vaughn, this is Hadley, Brook, and Lacy."  She said.  I noticed that he took longer to shake Brook's hand than he did with Hadley's.  It felt like an eternity when he shook mine.  I know he lingered my hand before I felt rude enough to yank it back.  We sat down. I reached for the lid of the pot before my mother stopped me. The luxurious smell of what every my mother had cooked taunted my sense.  But she still made me wait. I was really hungry at this point.

            "Before we start, I want to tell you girls something."  My mother started.

            "Now?  I thought we agreed after they ate."  My dad lowered his voice, thinking that we wouldn't be able to hear him, but I did.  Like cats' ears peeking to attention, I was hooked.  What ever the news was, it was big and they wanted their friend to hear it as well.  But I personally thought it could wait.  The food smelled really good.

            "Yes now."

            "That's not a good idea Syd."  That Michael guy said.

            He called my mother Syd.  At the time, I figured he didn't know my parents as well as I thought he did.  My mother's name was Syd.  It was Caitlin or Kate for short. I heard a thump under the table.  My mother must have kicked him, because Michael winced.

            "Girls I have a confession to make.  And I don't even know where to begin."  My mother looked nervous, and scared.  My dad took her hand, and squeezed it tight.  That image, of my father, remaining by my mother's side, protecting her of her own words, curing every ounce for her is one that even now, I still remember vividly.  My mother took a deep breath and began to spill years of lies.  "When I was in college, I was recruited by and intelligence scam that posed as the CIA.  For years, I even believed it was the CIA.  I learned the painful truth.  SD-6 was in no way affiliated with the US Government."  I sat there, shocked.  My mother? CIA?  Of course it was, but I didn't know it.  "Well, to put it in simple terms, I spent the next five years working with the CIA and Vaughn here handled my case.   Well, about 17 years ago, my cover was blown.  I was forced to join the Witness Protection Program."  Without food to digest, my mother's words filled me up.

            "Who are you?" Brook Quietly whispered.

            "Sydney Bristow."  That was why that Michael guy called her Syd.

            "Did you know about this?"  I looked at my father as the words flew out of my mouth.  

            "My story is similar to hers."  He said.

            "Then who are you?"  I spat.  This was too much.  I suddenly realized that my seventeen years of existence was a lie.  All a lie.

            "Alexander Jemison."

            It was too much.  17 years, all a lie.

            "Why are you telling us this now?"

            "As of this morning, SD-6 and the Alliance of Twelve has been destroyed.  Sloane is in a high security cell, much like the one Derevko was in."  Michael answered for me.  I think that part of the explanation was for my parents because I had no idea who the hell Sloane was, or Derevko.

            I jumped up; my chair fell backwards, hitting the floor.  I left it there.  My dad could yell at me later.  I wanted to yell at them first.  I couldn't think of something logical to say, so I thought of the first illogical thing I could think of.  I shouted.  "Oh, so, now I guess that you're my real Daddy."  I just left it.  My mother stopped trying to calm me. I started to walk out of the now silent room, when I heard my mother's soft voice.

            "Yes.  And Brook's too."

            That was the last straw.  I ran up to my room, hearing the footsteps of Brook following me to her own room.  I drowned out the arguing voices downstairs with my music.  I can't remember how long I was in there, but I knew my life wasn't perfect.  My life was all a lie.  I heard things calm down, but I knew I couldn't go downstairs again just yet.  Long before, I had eaten some of my hidden snacks, but my stomach still grumbled.  Quietly I snuck out of my room.  As quiet as I could, I knocked softly at Brook's door.

            "Go away!"  She shouted.  I knew who she thought I was, so I went in anyway. She was sitting on her bed with her back turned to me.  "I said go away."  She said again.  

            "Fine, but I was wondering if you wanted to steal the car and go for a pizza."  Brook turned around.

            "God, I'm so sorry.  I thought you were-"

            "One of them.  It's ok; I would have thought the same thing."

            "Yeah, I'll go."

            "Ok. The latter off the porch is still set up from painting last weekend.  Go down that and meet me by the fence.  And bring your money."

            "Ok."  Brook quietly got off her bed.

            "I'm going to go get Hadley."

            "I think she ate.  That girl never misses a meal."

            "She looked just as mad as we did.  She just found out we were only her half sisters. To me, Had is still our sister."

            "Me too."  Brook ran down the hall.

            I found Hadley sulking in her room.  "Hey, Had.  Brook and I are going for pizza. Want to come?"

            "No." Hadley said her voice flat.  She didn't want to be bother as much as Brook and I didn't want to talk to our parents.

            I found brook waiting for me by the fence, like I told her too.

            "Where is Hadley?" She as we tried to silently get into the car.  

"She didn't want to come."  I shut the door, and lights inside the house flew on.  My parents trusted me.  I felt bad for betraying their trust by steeling the car that without permission, I wasn't allowed to drive, but I had my reasons.  They betrayed my trust by lying for so long.  So it was a mutual distrust at this point.  I took a deep breath, ready for our adventure.  Brook looked at me, unsure if she too wanted to go through with this.  After a reassuring smile provided by me, she nodded her head, signaling for me to go.  I knew that once we were in the car we would be able to successfully steal the car.  I put the keys into the ignition, and we sped off to our favorite pizza place, The Pizza Jack Built, where they have the best pizza.  I watched the door open and my mother step out, with a disappointed look before I had finished pulling out of the driveway.

Brook and I made a pact before we arrived at Pizza Jack not to talk about what had happened to anyone.  And a dinner, we also pledged not to talk about it.  We barely spoke the entire night. Thoughts of earlier that day invaded our minds.

Few events from that night still stick with me.  I remember my dad holding my mom's hand, comforting her.  I remember the silent dinner.  In years to follow, I would slowly see Michael as a second father.  Especially after what happened next.  

My mother decided to keep her new name, Kate Ondrea, and my father as well.  But I noticed that their eyes had changed.  When I inquired my dad about it ( I was still to mad to talk to my mom) he told me they were only contacts.  Their hair gradually changed colors.  My father once had dark brown hair, with dark brown eyes.  He transformed into someone almost unrecognizable. Within a month, his hair turned a much lighter brown, spackled with grey.  I guess if he was dying his hair to hide the natural color, the grey disappeared as well.  I began to see more of Hadley in him.  But I saw Brook and myself look like our mother, only green eyes, like Michaels.  Light brown hair, and brown eyes, soon became our mother.  Friends who hadn't come to my place in a month or so had problems believing that they were my parents.

My attitude changed.  My life had been perfect.  Now it was anything but. I used to be outgoing.  Since that night, I became very quiet and reserved.  Charlie feared the worst.  Milo made me see the school councilor.  Emma called my parents. Jack called hourly to see if I was still breathing.  Sarah sent me pamphlets.  Laura made me see another councilor.  After all that, they still stuck by my side.  Those doctors and councilors figured it was just normal teenage stuff.  I never liked going home. I would hang out a different friend's houses until their parents kicked me out. Sometimes, I wouldn't leave until two mornings later.

My folks worried, but they knew I would never do anything dangerous. I never did.  They were always in contact with wherever I was staying. Besides through all of that, they still loved me, and knew I needed their trust.

Forgiveness for lying came slowly. I had begun to feel better and forgive them for a life of lies that spring.  Michael would come over often. Everyone wanted me and Brook to connect with him.  It was ironic that Hadley bonded first.

I came home from school one day and found myself home alone.  A note from Hadley told me she was at a friend's.  A message from Brook on the answering machine told me that she had to stay after for a test she needed to finish. I gave a shout fro joy.  A house to myself was a rare commodity. Around four my mother came bursting through the door.  "Lacy!  I need your help!"  She called.  I ran to her bedroom whir I heard her calling me.

"What's up Mom?" I asked.  There was a suitcase on her bed, and clothing scattered all over it.

            "I totally forgot that your father and I are leaving for two weeks and I need to pack for both of us."

            "You're leaving?"  I couldn't believe it.  Up until this year, my parents could have easily gotten Best Parents of the Year award for multiple years.  Not necessarily the coolest, but the best.  That year, everything had gone down the hole. And now, they were preparing to leave for two weeks, and that was the first I had heard.

            "I'm sorry Lacy.  Things have been so busy around here, I forgot to tell you girls we had to go someplace."

            I grabbed a weeks worth of socks, and dumped them into the suitcase.

            "Where?"

            "One week in La, then a week in Washington."

            "Why?"

            "In LA, things were left undone. I have to go back and fix things."

            "For seventeen years." I snapped.

            My mother came unglued.  "Lacy!  You don't know what this is like.  And God forbid you ever will."

            "Why can't we come?"

            "Two reasons.  School, and in Washington we actually have to do business."

            "Is Nanny staying with us?"  Nanny wasn't really our grandmother, but was assigned to us when my parents joined the Witness Protection Program. The rest of my extended family was the same.  I only knew five people who were related to me. I had never met my real grandparents.  My mom's dad appently was alive, and wanted to meet us. But things got in the way.  Mom would never talk about her own mother for some reason.  She was an only child, so there were no aunts, uncles, or cousins there.   Michael's mother was alive, and was planning to visit during the summer, his dad was dead.  And his little sister wasn't married. But I didn't want to meet them. As far as I was concerned, they were dead.  My dad's parents were dead.  He too was an only child.  So I went from having one mom, one dad, two sisters, four aunts, five uncles, seven cousins, three grandparents, all of whom weren't related, to one mom, two dads, two sisters, one aunt, no uncles, no cousins, and two grandparents.  I was glad that I never had to do a family tree.

            "Honey, Nanny has her own work."

            "She's getting old."

            "But you know her, her work fulfills her."

            "Then who is staying? You wouldn't' leave me in charge for two weeks."

            "Your right.  Michael is coming up after work tonight."

            "Michael?!?!?!"

            "I'm sorry sweetie, he was the only one that could come."

            "You could have tried harder."

            "He was our last choice.  Besides, Hadley likes him."

            "That's different.  You don't have to go."

            "Lacy."  My mother looked me in the eye.  "You may not like what is happening, but you are gong to have to live with it, and pretend you like it."

            "Fine.  I'm going to Charlie's or Milo's for a while."

            "I need you to stay home and tell Brook and Hadley what is going on."  

I was speechless.  My mouth hung open like a shocked cartoon character.  "You don't have the common courtesy to tell them yourself?"

"I drove home with that intent, but they're not there."

            "Brook should be home soon."

            "I have to leave in 10 minutes."

            "Fine. Have a good trip.  I'm going to Charlie's." I left.  I know she didn't want me to go, but I hoped on my bike, and biked the four blocks to Charlie's house anyway.  Charlie saw me bike into her drive way so I never needed to ring the doorbell.  My eyes were red from trying to hold back the tears. At that point, my life was so fucked up that a fight with my mom would send me into tears for a while.  I never gave Charlie the credit she deserved. When I first arrived I wasn't ready or willing to talk about it. She could see that. She brought me upstairs to her room where she promptly attempted to cheer me up. With good music, and watching internet movies of lemmings jumping off cliffs, only a short while later, I was feeling much better.

            "Charlie, can I tell you something?"  I ventured.  I was opening a can of worms, but I needed it off my chest. After making her promise not to tell anyone, repeatedly, I told her my sad tale.  She sat there quietly listening.  I have never forgotten how she displayed her friendship that day.  And all she did was listen as I dropped my tale.  She sent me home with some advice.  Bad advice, but it was the advice I wanted to hear.

            Michael hadn't come yet when I came home. I found Brook and Hadley vegetating in front of the TV.

            "Hey." I said.

            Hadley looked up at me.  "Lacy do you what time Mom or Dad will be home?"

            I wanted to say soon, like I always said, but I learned how painful a lie could be that year.  "Two weeks."  I somberly said.

            "Liar."  Brook joked.

            I sat down on the rocking chair.  "I'm not actually. Mom totally forgot to mention that she and dad are going on a two week trip without us."

            "Who is going to say with us?" Brook asked me.

            "Michael."  Brook shut down, as Hadley brightened.

            "This bites."

            "I promised Mom that we would at least be polite.  No matter how hard."

            "Double bite."

            I watched TV with my sisters for a while.  As it pushed eight, Michael still hadn't shown up.  We were getting hungry, but our parents had taught us to wait until everyone was home before starting, unless other wise told.  So we waited.  But Michael never showed up at a reasonable dinner hour.   Frustrated I ended up throwing some soup in the microwave for our dinner.  Night was half over when he arrived.  I was still up slaving under the bonds of homework.

            "Still up?" He said, surprised.

            "Yeah, homework."

            "I see you fended for yourself for dinner."

            "Yup."

            "Sorry, I ordered a pizza for you guys, but I didn't know the phone number or if you had money to pay for it."

            "Soup was fine."

            "Today is the only day that I'll be home late."

            "Whatever."  I closed my book to go upstairs and finish my work away from Michael. I turned around at the bottom the stairs.  The same green eyes that I have stared back at me.  "This isn't your home." I went upstairs to do my work, and left him standing there stunned.  To me it made sense.  He was the reason I no longer had a perfect life. He destroyed it.

            I found it annoying when the next day, during lunch, my cell phone shrilly rang.  My friends continued laughing and talking as I ran to the courtyard to answer it.

            "Hello?"

            "Hello Lacy."  My father said.  It was not a good time for him to call.  Eyes were on me.

            "What's up?"  I asked, trying to keep the suspicion off of me.  I didn't want complete strangers know that I was talking to my daddy.

            "Your mother and I wanted to check in on you."

            "During the middle of school?"

            "Are you in class right now?  I thought you had lunch."

            "I am at lunch."

            "We're just saying that we made here ok.  Do you need the number?"

            "No, I'll just take it off the phone."

            "Ok.  Michael has all of the emergency numbers." I rolled my eyes at Michael's name.  "But so that you know, when we're in LA we're staying with your mom's friends Francie and Will Tippin.  That's where I'm calling from." Outside the bell rang, warning me that I had ten minutes until class started.  The people eating outside stood up to leave.  The bell went unnoticed to my father.  He just kept babbling on while I half listened.  I look back on how I treated my father that day, and my heart pains.  But I didn't have the experiences that I do now. I only heard a couple of things.  Charlie had brought my backpack out to me, and was dancing around to get me to laugh.  I could hear the tone in my fathers voice change.  It did that when he was summing up or ending a conversation.  I listened as he finished.  "We'll try to call you to check up on you, and Brook and Hadley."

            "K."

            "But there are a lot of people we're having dinner with each night, so that it may be harder than it sounds."

            "What ever.  I have to go."

            "Ok, I love you."

            "Yeah. Bye." I hung up, grabbed my bag and walked back inside with Charlie.  "Your mom?"

            "No, my dad. How did you know I was talking to family?"

            "You have a similar face that you did yesterday."

            "Yesterday I was crying."

            "But underneath those tears," She explained.  "I could tell you were annoyed."

            "No kidding.  The first time I hear about them going away for two weeks is the afternoon before their flight as my mother is frantically packing.  I then find out they're having Michael stay."

            "This could be a good thing." My eyes threw daggers at her.  "Or not." She skeptically refuted.

            "Ok, explain to me how this could be a good thing." I asked.

            "Last night you wanted answers."

            "Still do."          

            "But your mom want give them to you."

            "So?"

            "Why not ask Michael?"

            I thought about it. She had made a good pint.   Maybe he could tell me why my mother had to conceal her identity.  I also wanted to hear how Brook fits into the picture. She didn't fit the time line. She's 15.  Seventeen years ago, my mother became Kate Ondrea.  But I wanted nothing to do with Michael.  I never answered Charlie's question.  I didn't see her the rest of the day. I didn't hang around school after 3:10 as I normally did. Instead I ran up to my room and threw my backpack onto my bed.  Throwing a CD into my stereo, I laid on my floor as the sounds of guitars, drums, basses, and voices engulfed the quiet.  I sat in the dark, watching my ceiling fan stir up the warm spring air floating through my open window. I listened to the passing cars when songs ended, the birds, and the whispering wind, carrying away people's secrets.  I didn't fall asleep, but the spinning fan put me at peace. I laid there for a good hour, ignoring the persistent ring of my cell phone or the sound of someone trying to IM me. I didn't mean to turn on my computer, but it was a habit to go to my room and turn on my computer.  I thought about turning it off, but it required more effort than I was willing to give.

            "Lacy!" I heard Hadley call.  I ignored her, and just shut my eyes.  "Lacy, Michael wants to take us to diner.  He wants to know where you want to go."

            I couldn't believe that she was serous.  For that matter, I couldn't believe that he was serious.  Was he trying to get on our good sides?  Did he want us to like him?  I could tell he was trying to buy us.  Sure, he had reason fro me and Brook to like him, were his daughters.  But only biologically.  Being a father is more than just genes. It would take nothing short of going back in time and my mother taking a different approach to life for that ever to happen.  

            "Not hungry." I called.  I heard Hadley relay the message.  My CD had stopped and I was to lazy to do anything about it, so the only sounds came from the downstairs, and the drone of my fan.  It was only a matter of a few minutes before I heard three car doors shut, and the black Honda drove off.

            I hated that car. I hated it with a passion.  When I first saw it, I thought nothing of it.  Now, whenever I see that little black Honda, or any black Hondas, I see despair, destruction, distrust, hate.  But can you really blame me?  That's what that car brought me.  Michael got a new car a few years back, after I 'accidentally' crashed it.  Ok, so it was really an accident.  I was a senior; there was a party, some drinking, icy roads, I paid a heavy, heavy fine.  And was grounded for the summer.  It was worth it, because Michael no longer has that hated black Honda.

            But back to the story from my junior year.  Once they had left, I sat up. I first turned on my music again. Then turned off the computer that was only on because of a silly habit, then went downstairs.  I almost tipped on Kernal (yea, we spelled it that way) our fat cat. Hadley had named him when she was six.  She had just learned what a colonel was, and couldn't spell. He looked up at me.  Smiling, knowing that I had a friend that couldn't tell anyone anything, or didn't have words of wisdom for me.  He was just a cat.  I picked up Kernal, and went down stairs.  But my idea of someone to talk to wasn't his.  He just out of my arms, and took refuge under the desk.

            The house was too quiet for a while. I watched some TV, figuring I could do my homework during band and lunch.  Michael didn't join me and my sisters as we watched TV.  He sat at the dining room table, surrounded by a mountain of paperwork.  I didn't know exactly what he did, but I knew he worked at the CIA branch, a much smaller one than in LA or Washington, in the city. While my parents were away, he was commuting daily.  My dad called again that night.  Talked to Brook and Hadley. I didn't want to.  I was still really pissed at them for leaving like that.  I refused to talk to him or my mother, at all when they called.  That is one of my biggest regrets in life today.

            One night, after everyone had come back from eating (I still refused to go, and Michael took them out every night, well Brook stayed three times) I snuck downstairs to get some dinner for myself..  The clock read almost one in the morning, and I figured I would be the only one up.  The family room was on the way to the kitchen.  I only wanted a sandwich.  Michael was sitting on the news watching a re-airing of the late night news.  Unfortunately for me, I inherited none of the spy genes that both my mom and Michael had, or my mom's parents, or Michael's dad had.  I tried to slip past Michael undetected, but he caught me.   But then again, he was a spy.  He had to notice this kind of things all the time for his job.

            "Lacy, what are you doing up?"  He inquired.

            "Needed some food."

            "Well, when you get it, I want to talk to you for a minute."

            "Sure Michael." I sarcastically said.  I found chicken salad in the fridge.  After a week, I was flabbergasted it was still good, but it smelled fine.  Carefully, I separated the pita bread, and stuffed chicken into it. I grabbed a paper towel, and walked back into the living room.  I sat on the opposite side of the couch.  I gave him a polite but sarcastic smile, prompting him to start.

            "I actually was just going to tell you that starving yourself isn't healthy."

            "I'm not starving myself.  Where'd you get that idea?"  I took a bite out of my pita, to prove my point.

            "I can see that.  I just thought since every time someone asks you where you want to go for diner, you say you're not hungry, and not go."

            "I'm never hungry at 6:00."

            "So you wait until midnight to eat."

            "Yeah."

            "Ok, as long as you eat sometime."

            I nodded.  I took a few more bites out my sandwich, and decided to listen to Charlie.  "I got questions."  I finally said.

            "About what?"

            "About everything my mom won't answer."

            "If your mom won't answer them, what makes you think I will?"

            "Because you're still Michael Vaughn.  She's no longer Sydney Bristow."

            He looked shocked at my not so sounds of wisdom.  Michael thought for a minute.  "Ask away." He reluctantly said.

            I was taken aback.  I never expected him to actually say yes.  There was so many questions that I didn't know where to start.  Taking a deep breath, I collected my thoughts.  Finally I decided where to start.  It was the question that answered more than one.  "What as your relationship to my mom?"

            He looked puzzled.  "On what level?  Professional, or personal?"

            "Both."

            He took a deep breath before starting.  "When your mother was a double agent, I was the go between. I was assigned to giving her, her counter missions, and other bits of intelligence.  She told me her assigned missions for SD-6 and the happenings there.  We became fast friends."  I sat there listening to his story.  "But," The way that Michael added a pause there, I could tell that this was a touchy subject for him too.  At least he was more willing to talk than my mother was.  "I realized it wasn't friendship I felt towards her.  I loved her, and the feelings were returned."  It was hard for me to hear that my mother had ever loved someone else.  I guess since Brook and I exist, it must be true.  "When your mother got pregnant, we were in trouble.  SD-6 could have found out. That couldn't happen. They would have killed everyone.  Sydney opted for the WPP." It's a lovely feeling to find out that you are a bastard child.  "That's the basics.  It gets a whole lot more complicated, but no one needs to know the pain of the rest."

            There were so many answers there, but one still remained.  "And Brook?"

            "A year after you were born, I met your mother for a progress.  Feelings got resurfaced, that we had both repressed for almost two years.  I think that you're old enough to put two and two together." His eyes fell.  "I never knew she was mine until that night."

            Well, I was able to connect the dots. He had answered all of my questions.  For the most part.  "Why did you request a transfer?"  

            He was shaken at that question.  "I- I- I didn't request a transfer."  He stuttered.  I folded my arms not believing him.  "I was assigned the transfer. My life in LA was good.  I had no reason to move here, besides orders." He was burring himself into a deep, deep hole.

            I masked an "Ok."  With nothing but understanding.  But I was mad.  Even if I was mad at him, I stood up and quietly left, trying not to show my anger.  Michael's wishes for a good night echoed in my head.  There was no way I could have a good night now.  My mother considered Michael a close friend.  She no longer loved him the way she once did. Brook, although wouldn't admit it, had started a shaky friendship with him. And then there was me.  A teenager trying to find herself in her final year before college, and her entire life had been turned upside down.  We were not a good enough reason to move only an hour away?  No part of me wanted to connect with Michael, but it disturbed me that his long lost daughters, who he had never met before weren't a reason to move, then I wonder besides orders were.

            At school I couldn't concentrate.  "You ok Lacy?"  Charlie asked me the next day after lunch. I slung my backpack over my shoulder to empty its contents.  "Lacy?"  She asked.

            "I don't want to talk about it." I said.  I grabbed my physics book and put it into my backpack.

            Charlie reached into my bag and pulled out my book and put my math book in.  "You already had physics.  You have math now." She said.  "Now talk to me."  She demanded.  "You've been like this all day.  In band you put your mouth piece on backwards and didn't notice until halfway through warm-ups.  Jon Collins, who need I remind you, you've had a huge crush on for a while, asked you for your help.  You blew him off.  _You_ blewoff Jon.  Now he thinks you're a complete jerk.  What is it?"

            "Did I really?"

            "I feared for you."

            "I made myself to be an ass in front of Jon!  How could I? I can't let this get to me anymore."

            "Now we're talking.  What is it?"

            I looked carefully down the hallway for any of my other friends, but no one was there.  I turned to Charlie and looked her square in the eye.  "I talked to Michael last night."

            "Oh, that explains everything."  Charlie responded.  "What did he say?"

            "he just flattered me and Brook.  But Brook can't know." I double checked the hall for my sister who sometimes came to talk with me and Charlie.  She too was absent from the hall.  "I just loved hearing that we were bad accidents."

            "My brother was one." Charlie's little brother was six.

            "Totally different."

            "How so?"

            "Your mom was overjoyed at that news, even I remember that.  My mom was forced into hiding.  Part of me feels like she regrets me."

            "I don't think that is true?"

            "I destroyed her dreams, her career; she had to change every trifle in her life to protect me."

            "See, protecting you."

            "It still hurts."

            My mother was home when I got home that day. She was home a day early. She sat on the couch with Hadley on her lap.  My mother held Hadley rocking her sobbing loudly.  Hadley just wore a sober look, not moving, not acknowledging anything. Even though I was still infuriated with my mother, I rushed to my mom's and my sister's side.

            "What's wrong Mom?"  I begged. My mother only cried.

            "Had? What's wrong?"

            Like a robot, Hadley turned to look at me.  I noticed for the first time that silent tears trickled down her face.  "Dad died." She simply said.

            I fell into the couch behind me, unable to comprehend the surreal news.  My father was dead.

            I didn't know that the conversation in the courtyard would be the last I would have ever had with him.  I couldn't know.  I even refused to talk to him the rest of the week.

            Cheerfully Brook burst through the door. She didn't know yet.  "Hello sisters!" Her bright toned dampened my already wet sprits.  She saw us on the couch.  "Mom, you're home early." She was the tears that flowed form our eyes.  "What's wrong guys?"

            "Daddy was killed."  Mom answered.  It was the first time she had spoken since I had gotten home.

            Brook began to sob as she sank down next to me.  I felt the burn of my first tears, well, since I got the news, roll down my cheek.  It soon was not alone.  My mother leaned over and attempted to hug all of us.  Her mouth next to my ear.

            "I love you Lacy." She quietly whispered.

            As a grieving family, we sat there for several hours.  Michael, who already knew was considerate enough to bring us some Chinese food.  But it sat on the table, untouched.

            The next week or so went by with a blur.  I can remember bits and pieces of happiness, mixed with more pain than any one person has to bear.  Jon asked me to prom, but I politely turned him down.  Prom was on the same night as my dad's funeral.  Turns out Jon had a crush on me as well.

            There were two funerals for my dad.  There was one, burring Alexander Jemison in LA.  I never really knew that man, and refused to go to it.  My mother came back with one of her old friends to support her.  My sisters and I did our best to be there for her, but it's hard when you can barely stand yourself.  I think Francie stayed a week after Rich Ondrea's funeral.

            It's funny what you remember.  I can't remember what people said about my dad at his funeral.  I can only remember my speech because I wrote it down.  Hadley can tell me what kind of flowers I picked out.  I can't remember even picking out the flowers.  The church was full of people.  Oh no, I don't remember that.  I have pictures.  But I remember that Michael sat in the front row with us.  And I remember watching people at the burial throwing dirt upon my perfect life.


	3. Epilogue

**~**~**~**~** Epilogue**~**~**~**~**

            Somewhere between then and now, the truth came out.  My father did a mission for the CIA while they were in Washington.  It was there that some miss information cost him his life.

            The story of my junior year is odd to be thinking about right now.  I should be thinking about how I look, how beautify my mother looks, or how handsome Michael looks, on this, their wedding day.

            Francie stands in front of me, and I can see how bad these dresses are from the back.  My mother thinks they're classy and nice.  The other adults agree with her.  As a college student, and my sisters, high schoolers, well, we disagree.  I look at the people attending the wedding.  

            My mom's friend, and Francie's husband, and one of Michael's friends sits smiling.  Will insisted that he sit in the middle, being a friend of both the groom and the bride.  But everyone else insisted he sit on the brides side because he was friends with my mom first, and plus he was married to the maid of honor, Francie.  I can see my grandparents.  The ones with no actual relation.  I see my mother's father (apparently her mother is in a high security prison) beaming at us.  Jack is actually a pretty good guy.  I can see my boyfriend Jon, and Charlie.  Jon and I hooked up after we realized that we were in the same freshmen chemistry class at CU. Charlie brought her little eight year old brother along, and he squirmed as he tried to sit still.  I see family and friends many I've never met.

            Honestly, I never believed I would see this day.  It took my mother two years before she realized that she loved Michael.  Although we all know that my father will never be replaced, or forgotten, we stand here watching our mother remarry.  It's hard seeing her profess her love to another man.  But I've made my peace.  After all Michael isn't just any man.  He is, after all, related to me by blood.  Since my mother and he started dating, I guess part of me wanted my parents to get married.  We applaud as they kiss.

            Jon and I went to the reception.  Hand in hand we entered the ballroom.  "Your mother found a good decorator." He teased me.

            "Yeah, me."  My mom knew I had an eye for decorating things, and asked me to decorate the reception hall.  Jon had watched me stress over it for months.  We walked gracefully over to the head table.  The band had already set up, and was playing a lively, carefree tone.

            "Shall we dance until your parents get here?"  Jon asked.

            "Why certainly." We stood up and walked to the dance floor where several other couples were also dancing to kill the time.

            I felt a tap on my shoulder.  I turned around to see Michael standing there.  "May I cut in?" He asks

            "Sure" I answer.  "Where's mom?  Aren't you two supposed to enter together?"

            "She had to go to the bathroom, which in that dress is harder than it sounds.  We'll be introduced in about ten minutes, but for now, I have time for a dance with my daughter."

            I blush.  That was the first time I had ever heard him say that.  "Can you forgive me?" He asks.

            "For what?"

            "I don't know what I did, but until now, no, even now, there's a little hostility."

            "Michael, it was just bad timing that year. IT sort of carried through.  I'm sorry for being such a jerk."

            "Would it ever have been good timing?"

            We laugh.  "No, not really." The song ended.  "Go, you and Mom need to make a grand entrance." I push Michael away, and meet up with Jon.

            "You've made your peace with him I see."

            "How could you tell?"

            "I lip read." He answers.  I look at him puzzled.  "Jeff, my brother, you know, my twin, remember he's deaf.  I picked up lip reading and sign language from him."

            "Oh right."

            It came time for the wedding party's dance, I grab Jon and we make our way to the dance floor where everyone waits for us.  The band plays "Angel" one of my parent's favorites.  Mid song, Jon whispers in my ear.  "I love you Lacy."  

            I smile, and whisper it back.  I realize that my life was getting back to perfect.


End file.
